Forgotten of the Past
by Christine Marie Jonasdotter
Summary: Erik's spirit still haunts the Palais Garnier to this day, in search of his beloved Christine. When Christianne comes to the Opera to begin with, Erik believes that it is finally her and is determined not to lose "Christine" again. Please Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

**Based on the current rp in my forum "Bienvenue au Palais Garnier" currently #3 forum in Phantom of the Opera. RP still in progress and still accepting applicants. Please Read and Review.**

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><p>It was a lovely Spring day in Paris. Thomas Gros and his fiancée, Christianne Vidal, were headed to work from their apartment on the Rue Notre Dame des Victoires. Thomas had been playing in the orchestra for about two years now and was the third chair first violinist, but today was Christianne's first day at the Opéra. She had recently been accepted into the Atelier Lyrique and had decided to leave her studies at le Conservatoire du 9ème Arrondissement in order to be able to devote herself wholly to her new career alongside her soon-to-be husband. Music had always linked Thomas and Christianne together. They met at the Conservatoire and fell in love during their studies. Now, they would be playing and singing alongside one another at the world famous Opéra Garnier. To them, Paris was like a musical fairy-land where their love for one another and for their art could blossom and flourish.<p>

"Oh, Thomas, this is simply wonderful! Think of it: l'Opéra Garnier!"

Thomas grinned at his fiancée. He had heard her voice thousands of times before, but no matter how many times he heard her, every time he heard her voice felt like the first. Though he enjoyed the private singing performances she gave him, Thomas was excited that Christianne would finally be able to share her voice with the world. He chuckled, "Of course I can believe it – they couldn't resist your angelic voice. Are you nervous?"

She nodded.

"Nervous and excited all at the same time. The performances at le Conservatoire were never so big as anything at the Garnier."

"Don't worry, love. I know that wherever you go you'll be amazing." Thomas took Christianne's hand for a moment. "I remember my first time at the Garnier. I was feeling the same way you were – nervous and excited – and when I first played there... it was one of the greatest feelings in the world."

She smiled back at him.

"What did it feel like?"

He smiled and kissed her cheek, "It felt like finding my true love. Except finding you was much better."

She giggled gleefully and gave his hand a squeeze.

Thomas loved saying things like that to her. If he could tell her he loved her every moment of their lives, he would. Somehow, it seemed like Christianne was a princess and he was the pauper, in a sense. Although he had already won her heart, he still sometimes felt like there could be something more he could give her, but he did not know what it could be.

Chuckling, Thomas pulled her closer to him, hoping to see her smile once more.

She grinned at him and then turned away blushing. She loved to be alone with her fiancé. He never failed to be the romantic charmer she had once met her first day at the Conservatoire in their Music History class that they had together.

She leaned in for a kiss.

Smiling, Thomas complied and leaned in to kiss her as well.

The two kissed. A kiss from Thomas always made everything feel better for Christianne. She was still nervous, but she knew that her love would be there with her the entire time, and knowing this was what appeased her.

Thomas felt Christianne relax as he held her and almost let out a sigh of relief. He didn't want her to be so nervous about this.

"I'll be with you the whole time. And if they try to kick me out, then," he thought for a moment, then smiled wickedly. "Then I'll handcuff the guy to a door! Or better yet, I'll handcuff myself to a door!"

She laughed at him. Thomas was always such the biggest goofball.

"And where exactly are you planning on finding a pair of handcuffs?" she asked, challengingly.

"What if I told you I brought a pair? Would you believe me?"

She laughed.

"Oh Thomas... I never said that I didn't believe you."

He chuckled as he leaned in closer to her.

"But you might have been thinking it!"

"What possible reason would I have not to believe you, mon amour?"

He gave a small grin, "Because I'm a horrible liar... usually." Thomas chuckled.

She laughed.

"Oh Thomas, what am I ever going to do with a husband who never lies to me? I won't have anything to nag him about as a wife," she teased.

He kissed her on the tip of her nose and his grin spread a bit wider.

"Oh? And who says that I _never_ lie to you?" He reached into his coat pocket and rattled something that sounded like keys. Except they _clinked_ and _clacked_ a bit more roughly than a pair of keys.

"Of course, I'll make sure that you will have _something_ to nag me about. I can't be good all the time, can I, love?"

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

"No, I suppose not... So what do you have in there? Something I can nag you about?"

He laughed.

"Quite possibly." He rattled the object again.

"Let me see!" she laughed, reaching into his coat pocket.

Thomas stepped away from Christianne, laughing as he rattled the object louder.

"Are you challenging me, Monsieur?" she asked, putting her hands on hips and giving a smirk.

Thomas took his hand out of his coat pocket and began slowly backing away, a smirk on his lips.

"Perhaps," he challenged and backed away faster.

She laughed and rushed at him, trying to grab the object out of his pocket.

He laughed as he easily avoided her quick hand. As the little game went on, Thomas began jogging away from her, hoping she would follow.

She went after him.

"Thomas!" she laughed. "Why can't I see?"

"You can if you can catch up!" he called.

She ran after him, still laughing.

Thomas began taunting her, trying to run her around in circles.

She finally stopped and folded her arms, giving an adorable pout as he ran circles around her.

Thomas stopped and stood facing her. His eyebrows rose.

"Had enough?"

She smiled, then reached up and kissed him.

"Have you?"

"Mmmm... maybe."

She gave a coquettish smile.

Thomas smiled and pulled her a bit closer.

She kissed him again and while doing so, slipped her hand into his coat pocket.

Thomas broke away for a moment and said, "Go ahead, love. You can take it out now." He grinned. "You'll have a good reason to nag me now."

She reached into his pocket and pulled out the object. It was two objects actually: a pair of handcuffs and a little box.

She looked up at him with a smug expression.

"So you were completely serious about that? Well, you're right about one thing though. It _has_ given me something to nag you for. You've brought a pair of handcuffs, and yet you've forgotten something far more important."

Thomas laughed, "Well since you now have nagging rights, I'll have _that _back." He snatched the handcuffs out of her hand and pocketed them in his coat. He circled behind her and put his arms around her neck, looking down at the little package that Christianne held. He smiled.

"Don't just stare at it; open it."

She smiled and opened the box. Inside, there was a little slip of paper. She took it out and read aloud.

"My dear little Christianne, I saw this and thought of you, but after I bought it and was holding it in my hand, I realized that I'd much rather be holding you."

"She looked into the box again and her eyes lit up. Inside was a silver necklace with a heart shaped pendant that had a single pearl in the center.

Thomas kissed her cheek.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it, Thomas..." she said, smiling warmly.

"I love you," Thomas said, leaning in to kiss Christianne.

They kissed.

"Oh... it makes me feel so bad that I have to nag you now..."

Thomas smiled coyly.

"Oh, well then I should be nice to you more often so that I don't have to get nagged." Then he spun her around. "Do you want me to put the necklace on you?"

"Thomas, it really _is_ rather important..."

"Oh, I see, well if you insist on putting it on yourself..."

"Thomas, that's not what I meant, dear..."

Thomas' eyebrows rose.

"Oh, what are you talking about?"

"Well... Thomas, dear, where are we going?"

"To the Opéra Garnier..."

"And what do you do there, dear?"

Thomas' brows furrowed.

"Christianne, I don't see the point in all of – oh! You thought that I..." he couldn't help it, he burst into a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny?"

He tried to stop laughing so that he could explain himself.

"I'm having a friend of mine take my violin to the theatre this morning so that I can only focus on you." His eyes glimmered for a moment, but died down as he chuckled again. "I just can't believe that you actually thought that I came this far and actually forgot it."

She blushed, embarrassed for having doubted him and been so terribly wrong.

"Oh," she said, trying to chuckle herself.

Thomas looked at her and stopped laughing, walking over to her.

"I'm sorry, love. I should have told you where my violin was. I didn't mean to worry you."

"It's fine, dear," she said smiling at him and continuing to walk.

He kept pace with her.

"Do you really forgive me? I feel terrible that I let you think that I left my violin at home..."

"Of course I do," she said, a hint of doubt in her voice.

She felt like a complete idiot, like Thomas had succeeded in making an enormous fool out of her, and that he had been laughing at her stupidity. She had only been trying to help...

Thomas did not really realize how Christianne felt at that moment, but he could hear the uneasiness in her tone again and knew that he could not let her go to the opera house this way. She did not need to be stressed on her first day of work.

So trying to make her happy again, he brought up the necklace again.

"Do you want to wear it to work for good luck?" he asked as he reached into her hands to acknowledge the necklace's existence.

She turned to him, gave a small smile, and nodded. She then stopped, handed him the necklace, and lifted her hair.

Thomas took the necklace and gently put it around her neck. He smiled and kissed her cheek.

"If somehow I can't be there physically when you sing, just remember that I'll always be with you in your heart."

She smiled at him.

"I know you will be there, dear."

He kissed her again, sighing.

She savored his embrace. How could she remain upset with him when he was always so charming and thoughtful?

Thomas whispered in Christianne's ear, "We should probably start walking again, love. It wouldn't be good to be late on your first day."

She sighed.

"You're probably right, dear... meet me for lunch? There's a sandwich shop just inside the metro station..."

He nodded.

"Of course I will, love." He spun her around to give her a kiss.

They kissed. Christianne smiled and linked arms with him as they continued along their way to the Opera. It was not very long before the massive and splendid "palace" was within their view: the Opéra Garnier! The two walked to the back of the performer's entrance.

"You'll be wonderful. Trust me, I've heard you," Thomas said with a smile.

"Thanks," she said. "One more kiss? For luck?"

Thomas smiled as they both kissed. Then he found his violin sitting where his friend had set it and walked away, knowing that Christianne would stun the manager with her voice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, I realised after posting chapter 1, that I probably should have mentioned who played who in each chapter. **

**In chapter 1 in the original rp version, thomas Gros was played by Maxniss Everide and Christianne Vidal was played by myself.**

**In this chapter, I again played Christianne, and Queen of Drama 13 played both Nicole Jalo and Hannah Anderson.**

**Again, we are still accepting original characters and do not have permanant people as of this moment for the roles of Thomas Gros, Hannah Anderson, Mlle Clichy, and Stephan Dupont (the last 2 mentioned are yet to make an appearance)**

**If you submitted a signed review, I have already replied to you via PM, but for those who submitted anonymous reviews, I shall respond now.**

**Reverend Squid****- I'm glad you want to see more. Chapter 1 was more of an introduction to Thomas and Christianne and their relationship. sorry about the whole seems old fashioned thing :P I'm used to writing Victorian-stylistic, so this was a new experience for me.**

**Hh****- I'm glad you think so. i know that a lot of people have slightly biased opinions of Raoul-figures, so we wanted to make sure to overcome any possible bias against his relationship with Christianne early on in the story.**

**Thank you so much for all of your reviews. I really enjoyed reading them and am more than glad to respond to each and every one of you. I hope that you enjoy the next chapter and encourage you to continue reviewing.**

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><p>Christianne walked into the Baillieu rehearsal room. She had only been in there once before, and that was for her audition. It was her very first day actually working there at the Opéra Garnier and she was quite excited by the thought of it.<p>

"From the top again!" She heard the director call. Christianne had heard she was also the manager. Now what was her name?... Mlle Jalo? That was it.

Hannah Anderson saw the girl enter before Nicole Jalo did. She had told them a new girl would be joining the opera company that day. It didn't make her any less pleased. But no matter now. As long as everything went right, this girl wouldn't last long.

Christianne walked silently into the rehearsal room, trying desperately not to disturb the rehearsal which was already in progress. She made her way to the back of the room where there were some folding chairs and sat down to watch. _I'll just wait until they finish what they are doing. After all, I wouldn't want to disturb Mlle Jalo..._

"wait, wait," Mlle Jalo called, and the music stopped. "Miss Vidal! Sorry, Mlle Vidal. Everyone, I'd like you to meet our new singer, Christianne Vidal! Make sure to make her feel welcome. Does anyone want to show her around backstage? I have to make a call to the shop about our costumes."

Christianne smiled and waved to her new coworkers.

Hannah smirked. This would be the perfect opportunity. She glanced over and winked at one of the stagehands who happened to be listening to the rehearsal. It was amazing how money talked.

"I'll show her around!" Hannah called. A few people looked surprised. Hannah was never pleasant, and especially not to newcomers.

Christianne beamed. "Oh, that would be simply wonderful, Mademoiselle," she said.

Hannah ran from the front of the room and grabbed Christianne by the wrist. "Come on. You'll absolutely _love_ it here. I'll show you the dressing rooms while they rehearse."

"I have to step out for a moment!" Mlle Jalo yelled, holding her phone away from her ear. "I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Move the rehearsal onstage; I'll be back soon." She left the room without another word, and the room cleared to have rehearsal resume downstairs.

"This way," Hannah said, squeezing Christianne's wrist almost unbearably tight. "The dressing rooms here are divine!"

Christianne gave a small cry, but managed to retain a pleasant image nonetheless. She didn't want to seem rude. After all, the woman was only trying to be friendly. She let the woman drag her from the rehearsal room backstage to the communal dressing rooms, which were quite a long way's away.

"See the dressing rooms are amazing!" Hannah said as they entered. They were rather nice. Long rows of mirrors surrounded by lights, a small lounge of chairs, supposedly for actors about to go onstage, a whole wall of costumes, and an upright piano in the corner.

"This is the women's side. The men's is over there." Hannah waved her arms, motioning around the room. "We use the piano for warming up. So, what do you think?"

Of course, it didn't really matter. She'd be begging to quit by the time Nicole got back. She just had to bide her time.

"They are rather lovely," Christianne said. "Although I must admit, this is my first time in any sort of real dressing room. At the Conservatoire they were more of bathrooms backstage..."

"Well," Hannah said, walking toward the wall of costumes and pushing aside a few of them to reveal a door, "we had to put the old costumes somewhere. The bathroom is back here. Of course, you won't be seeing much of _me_ here. But I was once a chorus girl too, and I learned a few things." She let the dresses drop back into place. "Jalo is a pack rat when it comes to costumes. We pack most of the stuff into the back room, hang some nicer things here, and when it gets to be too much we sell them. One of the box keepers buys old dresses and makes bags out of them for the performers. They're quite nice." It was true. The woman was gifted with a needle and thread. Hannah had five made from her old costumes. She had given one to her niece for Christmas last year. Too bad this girl wouldn't be around to enjoy them. All Hannah had to do was keep up the nice act until they reached the stage.

"Really? That is quite fascinating... Thanks by the way for volunteering to show me around. You seem to know so much about how the Opera works..."

"Oh, it's no trouble," Hannah said. She turned away so the girl could not see her smirk. "Shall we head to the stage? You'll need to know your way."

"Of course," Christianne nodded. "Wouldn't want to get lost on the way to the stage, now would I?"

"Of course not," Hannah smiled as they made their way to the stage. When they reached the entrance, Hannah looked up quickly. There was the stage hand, in position. "After you," Hannah said, giving a large, sweeping bow, Christianne giggled and walked onto stage. _'Three... two... one.'  
><em>Suddenly, Christianne found herself drenched in a slimy goo from above. She was covered from head to toe with the eggy stuff. Her clothes here soaked through with yolks and white and clung to her body. Her hair was all mussed with shells and strings of egg white. The poor girl was in shock!

The entire cast, which had moved rehearsal to the stage as Mlle Jalo had instructed, burst out laughing. Hannah was holding in a laugh herself. "Aww, poor little thing," She mocked. "Is it too much for you? I guess you're not cut out to be here after all." Hannah smirked as she watched the look of devastation on Christianne's face. That would teach her that opera was for big boys, not children like her.

Christianne could not reply to this. She shook her head and ran as fast as she could from the stage, in tears. She didn't know where she was running to and she most certainly didn't care where. Anything at all to get out of there! Anything at all to get away from those cruel, horrid people who found her misery amusing. Oh, where was the end of such schadenfreude?

Nicole came into the room just as Christianne rushed off stage. She brushed her dyed red fair from her brown eyes and took in the laughing cast, Hannah's smirk, the fact that Christianne was nowhere to be found, and the large yellow stain on the floor.

_'I'm not sure I want to know...'_


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, only review last chapter was replied to via PM, so I guess there are no responses to post this time...**

**In the rp version of chapter 3, the character Christianne was played by myself and Erik was played my Maxniss Everide, who did an astounding job in the role, might I add.**

**There are still roles open in the rp is you go to "Bienvenue au Palais Garnier" in the Phantom of the Opera secion of the forums. Leads still open are Hannah Anderson (although we have had a couple of applications which are currently being considered), Mademoiselle Clichy (The Leroux Madame Giry figure. 1 application is in consideration), and Stephan Dupont (Joseph Buquet). We are also looking fror someone to create an original character to be Thomas' guy friend, preferably a male to play the role. As alwaays, original characters welcome with application and approval.**

**I hope that you enjoy reading chapter three. I will update as soon as I get the chance.**

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><p>Christianne ran as fast as her legs could carry her, still in tears and dripping with yolk from the bucket of eggs that the cruel soprano had dumped on her. She ran into the first door she saw open and slammed it shut behind her. There was an old vanity in the room where she sat down, buried her head in her hands and let the tears flow. It was only day one and she'd already managed to make enemies...<p>

She was far too upset to notice the shadowy figure lurking in the back of the room, behind the curtain in the inner room...

A shadow shifted from behind the mirror. He thought it had been his imagination when he heard that soft, sweet innocent voice in his theatre again. But here she was, crying in her old room! He had always known that Carlotta woman infuriated her, and it made his blood boil when he though of that toad. None of that mattered now, however. It would never have to matter...

Christianne lifted her head and shook away some of the egg goop. She was a mess... She noticed a large mirror at the opposite end of the room and went to go try to clean herself off. At least with the mirror there, she could see exactly what the damage was...

The shadow closed his eyes for a moment, taking in that _she_ was actually there. When he opened them, he found that she was coming toward the mirror. He almost felt his heart leap.

Christianne looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair had pieces of eggshell stuck in it and her blouse and skirt were damp with egg whites and clung to her body. She began to pick the eggshells out of her hair.

The darkness behind the mirror sighed as he studied her. He was a bit shocked at her attire. What was she wearing? It was not like anything that she had worn to the opera house before, nor was it any of the many gorgeous dresses that she would have received from her lover by now.

It seemed as though she had snipped the dress in half, separating the bottom from the top. Yet that even seemed to do the outfit too much justice. The dress's skirt was much too short to be on any type of dress that he had ever seen and the top half... exposed far too much for his liking. However, he would not leave her for the world. She was his only light. His only ray of hope.

She ran a finger through her slimy hair, trying to make herself look even the remotest bit presentable, but it was hopeless. She gave a frustrated sigh and then collapsed into a nearby chair. What had she possibly done to deserve to be humiliated like this?

The darkness studies the young woman who now wore a look of despair. How dare that toad humiliate her! How dare she ruin her perfect blonde curls! Yes, the shadow knew that the toad was lucky to enough to even breathe the same air as his treasure, but to harm her or cause her humiliation of any kind went far beyond his limits. That woman would rue the day that she did this to an angel, he would be sure of that.

However, that would wait until later.

She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. Maybe this was all just some terrible dream... That was it! She was dreaming. All she would have to do was to open her eyes and the nightmare would be over. But then again, what if she wasn't dreaming? Dare she open her eyes to find out?

The silhouette of a man slowly went through the mirror, too entranced by the girl to even notice what he had done. He still remained in shadow as he entered the room.

Christianne still had her eyes closed. She didn't know if she wanted to sing at the Opera any more...

The shadow of a man still kept to the shadows, still not quite sure what he should do. Unbeknownst to him, his shadow silhouette began to fade and he became almost exposed in the room. If she were to open her eyes, she would completely see him.

He watched her, but seeing her distress unnerved him. What if she were to never sing again? Surely she would not consider such a possibility?

Christianne gave a sigh. She couldn't do that to Thomas. She couldn't just quit. This was what they had always dreamed of together...

He could not stand this. He had to say something... _anything_ to her. Yet the best he could manage to do was to clear his throat.

Christianne's eyes fluttered open and she saw the tall man standing only a few feet in front of her by the mirror.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize that anybody was in here..."

She made a move as if to leave.

"No! Please don't go," the man found himself saying a bit desperately. Realizing this, he composed himself once more and added, "I am sure that you do not want to go about the theatre with eggshells all over you."

"I suppose you have a point," she said, giving a sigh. "Not sure how much I can do about it at the moment though... I'm sorry for getting egg all over the place..."

"Think nothing of it, my dear," the man simply told her. "You may wash up at my home."

She looked at him a bit oddly.

"At your home?"

He was mildly confused at her. Did she not remember where he lived? How could she have forgotten..."

"Yes, of course. You must remember it."

"How would I remember? This is the first time we've ever met. I don't even know your name..."

Perhaps she did not fully recognize him. He did not quite understand why she would not recognize him, for he had foolishly assumed that he may have been the only man in the Opéra Garnier who wore all black, a full-faced mask, and had the voice of an angel. Apparently, he had been wrong.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle; I am Erik."

She smiled.

"My name is Christianne."

Erik's mind raced. Why had she changed her name? When he had let her marry her vicomte, she should have known that she would never need to fear him again. She would be safe from him. She would have been safe from Erik, but she chose to come back...

But if she had returned to him, then why would she tell him her changed name instead of her real, beautiful name?

"Come, we should get that mess out of your hair and find you something more suitable to wear."

"That's very kind of you to offer, Erik, but you don't have to..."

"No, Christianne, I insist." Erik had decided to call her by the name she told him. If that was what she preferred, then he would make every effort to call her that. "And you will look like an angel when you are clean and in something much more appropriate."

She blushed.

"Thanks again..."

He noted that the way she spoke was a bit strange. It seemed as if she rushed her words or strung them together.

"It is my pleasure." Erik smiled beneath his mask as he beckoned her, "Come."

She stood and moved toward him. She was extremely grateful that he was so willing to help her. Perhaps this sort of thing was normal of newcomers to have a bucket of eggs dumped on their head the first day...

Erik did not say anything as he opened the mirror for her.

Christianne's eyes widened. The mirror was a door as well?

"Follow me and keep close."

"Are you sure it's safe?" she asked nervously. That tunnel behind the mirror looked awfully dark and ominous. Was it another prank?

"Of course it's not safe," Erik answered, turning to face her. Must he remind her this? "However, as long as you are with me, nothing can harm you."

She didn't know whether she should trust him or not.

"I... I should really go. My fiancé is expecting to meet me somewhere..."

Her fiancé? The Vicomte _still_ remained her fiancé? Erik had been so sure that they would have been married by now. Perhaps it had not been as long as he had assumed.

"Mademoiselle, please. I will do everything in my power to be sure of your safety and once you are in my home, nothing can harm you." _As long as you stay out of my torture chamber, _he added silently.

Christianne bit her lip. She didn't know whether or not she could trust this 'Erik,' but she did know that she couldn't let Thomas see her like this...

"All right," she said with a sigh. "I'll go with you."

Erik held out his hand toward her.

She took it. His hands were very cold, and Christianne wondered to herself if perhaps he was ill.

Erik led her down the dark passage, thankful that she had not completely recoiled at his touch.

Christianne studied the strange man more closely as they walked. What kind of man went about the opera wearing a cloak and a mask? And what about that mirror-door? He said he was taking her to his house. Surely he didn't actually live in one of these spooky opera-tunnels...

She followed him, still observing. Erik... Erik... Why did this situation seem so familiar? Had they met before? Surely she would have remembered a man as bizarre as he.

Was this another cruel trick of Hannah's? Really, guy in a mask leading her into a dark passage way to his 'house'...

Erik tried to contain his joy as he led Christianne though the dark passage. She had finally returned to him!

Although there was still the Vicomte in question and her strange attire and even her name change. None of the explanations he had conjured were in tune with each other.

Then there was the unanswered question: Why had she returned to him?

"Christianne?"

"Yes, Erik?"

"Why did you come back to l'Opéra Garnier?"

What did he mean 'back'?

"I was recently accepted into the Atelier Lyrique... although at this point I'm not sure I'll be staying," she sighed.

She said she was leaving? No! He could not let her leave! She had just returned! He would not let her simply slip through his fingers again!

"No, you must stay! You are the only decent singer this company has! If you leave, all they have left is the toad!"

"Erik, I am sure that there are plenty of capable singers at the Opéra..."

Those singers cannot hold a candle to you, Christianne. Your singing is the heart of music itself."

She found herself blushing again.

"Thank you kindly, Erik, but you hardly know me. Have you even heard me before?

Had he heard her before? He had _trained_ her! How could she have easily forgotten?

He tried to push down his fury for fear that she would leave him again.. He did not answer her question, but instead reverted back to his original question.

"Why did you decide to come back to the Garnier, _Christianne_?" Erik said a bit too coldly.

She was a bit offended at this. She took her hand away from his.

"If you must know, _Erik, _it was to please my fiancé."

Erik realized what he had done and stopped walking.

"Please forgive Erik! He should not have spoken to Christianne in such a manner!"

She cocked her head a bit. Erik sure did have a strange way of speaking...

"I forgive you," she said. It was almost a question...

Erik blushed beneath his mask, giving a small smile. He almost wished that she could see his smile...

He held out his hand to her again.

"Your fiancé, you say. Why does it please him that you are here?"

Well... I guess you could say that music has been our entire relationship. It was how we met, how he proposed to me..." She smiled thinking of Thomas. "He is so happy to know that I will be singing here..."

Their relationship was based off of music? Ha! The vicomte could hardly play the violin. However, he did not comment on this, for fear of provoking her displeasure.

Erik still held out his hand for her as he nodded.

"That is why you must stay, Christianne. We would not want to make him unhappy, now would we?"

"I suppose not... It would break his heart if he knew that I wanted to quit after only my first day..."

"Yes, and Erik would die if he could not hear Christianne's voice again..."

He silently hoped that she would still follow him to the lake. She had said she had an engagement with her lover, had she not? Yet, Erik could not bear to see her leave again...

She smiled and held her hand out to him. She would surely be late for her date with Thomas at this rate, but then again, she couldn't really go until she had cleaned up either...

Erik gently grasped Christianne's outstretched hand and led her to the edge of this passage, which would eventually lead to the edge of the lake. If only he could find that horse, César, then this trip would be much quicker...

"Are we almost there?" Christianne asked impatiently. "I'm supposed to meet my fiancé for lunch..."

"Yes," Erik replied, guiding her through the passage. "We are almost to the lake."

"There's a lake too?"

"Of course, that is where my house is."

Christianne was confused. He spoke as if he expected her to know all of this.

She nodded politely, pretending to have the remotest idea of what he was speaking about.

Erik did not ask her any more questions until they finally reached the lake.

Christianne was a bit in shock. He wasn't joking. There actually _was_ a lake... Maybe this wasn't a prank after all... Maybe this man really _did _live under the opera house...

Erik was thankful that his boat was on this side of the lake. It would have been much harder to get her across otherwise...

"After you, mademoiselle," he said, gesturing toward the boat.

"I... I don't do boats..." she said, biting her lip. It had always been a fear of hers. She had never been a very strong swimmer and the thought of being over open water scared her.

This greatly confused Erik. She had never complained about it before...

"Are you afraid?"

Christianne nodded her hear, trembling. She had been brave enough to venture out on a boat only once before: when she had gone with Thomas to visit his parents' vineyard. She ant Thomas went out on a canoe over a small lake and the boat overturned. Thomas had to save her from drowning...

Erik slightly nodded his head and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a small black cloth.

"Please, I'm sorry, but I really don't feel comfortable with this... the last time I was in a boat I nearly drowned because it tipped over..."

"It's quite all right, Christianne; I assure you the boat will not tip over."

"Please, Erik. There must be some other way," she pleaded. Can we not simply go around the lake?"

Like a shadow, Erik moved behind her. He made his voice sound comforting to distract her:

"Of course, my dear. We will go around the lake just as you wish."

She gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you so much for understanding..."

"Of course, my dear; we wouldn't want you to be in terror now, would we?..." Erik gently put his cold hands on her shoulders, as if in understanding.

Christianne relaxed a bit. His hands were cold, but they felt good in the muggy heat of the underground lake...

Erik brushed his hands over her shoulders a bit as he asked, "It's a bit warm down here, isn't it?"

She nodded, enjoying his touch.

Erik touched her arm and slowly pulled her into an embrace. He was ecstatic about being this close to her.

She closed her eyes and let him hold her. His cool body felt so nice in the heat...

Erik did not even mind that she had egg all over her. In fact, he hardly even minded that it was getting all over him as well.

She nestled herself in his cool arms and heaved a sigh of contentment.

Erik smiled under his mask and wished that he could only stay in her embrace forever. Sadly, all good things have to come to an end...

She rested her head on his shoulder.

Erik almost dropped the black cloth that he still clutched as she did so. He even let out a little gasp. She actually trusted him completely. It was almost as if he were her angel of music again...

A smile spread across her lips. There was something so comforting about being in Erik's arms...

The black cloth seemed to be nagging Erik. He did not want to do this to her, but it was the only way.

Slowly, he began to lift it to her face.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Oh, much better," she swooned.

"Good," he said. "I do not want you to be in any discomfort..."

The cloth was almost to her mouth.

She opened her eyes to look at his face – or rather, where his face _would_ have been if he were not wearing the mask – smile still on her lips. She did not notice thee cloth inching toward her mouth...

Erik's eyes softened at her. His other hand stroked her cheek, in hopes that she would close her eyes again.

She closed her eyes, feeling his cool fingertips on her cheek.

Erik turned his hand over, pressing it to her cheek.

She leaned her face into his hand. It felt so nice...

Swiftly and silently, Erik drew the black cloth over her mouth.

Christianne could suddenly feel her consciousness slipping away as the fabric was pressed against her nose and lips...

Erik hated doing this to her, but he knew that there was no possible way to convince her to go across the lake in the boat.

The last of Christianne's consciousness had slipped away. And she now lay completely unconscious in Erik's arms.

It had been such a long time since he had seen her. She had never willingly embraced him for that long before. It was a miracle that she had returned, but the question still bothered him... why?

Erik held her tightly in his arms. He picked her up, supporting her legs as well, and carried her to the boat. Gently, Erik set her inside and got in as well. Once she was safely inside, he grabbed the oar and began to row the boat across the lake.

He could see his house in plain view now. It was the same old sight, though it had gone through many changes. Parts of it began to deteriorate slowly and some things began to fall apart. For instance, the doors sometimes unhinged as if the had been worn for over a hundred years! But that was preposterous; his house was no more than eleven years old! Perhaps the answer to its decay was that it lay in the middle of a lake under an opera house and the humid air was finally getting to it.

Erik looked down at the girl again. The question still seemed to nag him...

She had been happy when she was with her Vicomte! Both of them had moved far away from him! There was no reason for her to return.

But that was also a question: if she and her Vicomte were so much in love, then why were they not yet married?

Why would it take the Vicomte, the man who hated Erik with a fiery passion, happy that his true love would return to the opera house, knowing full well that Erik would once again sweep her off her feet through the joy of music? Why would he trust that Erik would not steal her away from him again? Erik almost did not trust himself with that.

He pulled the boat up to the shore, carefully pulling the girl out and laying her on the ground.

She was not yet married and her fiancé wanted her to return for some reason. Her clothing was ghastly and improper. He could not even begin to explain that. She spoke differently than before and she had changed her name. For what purpose? How did they allfit together? How did they all tie in to her return to him?

Sighing with irritation, Erik picked her up, carrying her bridal style once more and, carefully balancing her, he opened the door to his house.

He opened the door to the Louis-Philippe room and laid her down on the couch.

Erik walked out of the room, leaving the door open just a crack and went into his bedroom. He was about to change into a different outfit when he realized that there was no longer any egg on him. _Curious, but I will not worry about that now. She still needs proper attire after all, _he thought to himself as he reached into a dresser and pulled out a different outfit for himself. He set that on his coffin for the moment and rummaged through other closets and dressers in the house to find some old outfits he had for her before.

He found a few women's outfits, mostly consisting of bustle skirts, that he found appropriate for this time of year and set them on the bed next to the couch where she lay.

Afterward, Erik found himself back inside his room again, changing into an outfit that was much like the first. However, this time he wore a more elegant suit with white trim. With it, he replaced the black mask that he had been wearing with a full-faced whited mask. What he was wearing before – a man's dress shirt along with a coat and dress pants – was set on his coffin.

As e adjusted the mask on his face, he looked back at the clothing on his coffin and his eyes widened a nit. Egg covered the outfit lying on the coffin. Only moments before, he was sure that he had not seen or felt and egg on him.

He left his old attire there for the time being, not wanting to smear his clean suit with egg as well. It was not that he actually cared; it was only that he needed time to ponder this situation he had gotten himself into.

He sat at his organ, resting his fingers on the keys. Erik's gaze seemed to be looking intently at the music, but his mind was elsewhere.

Everything she had said to him in their recent time together burned into his memory.

"_How would I remember? This is the first time we've ever met. I don't even know your name..."_

"_My name is Christianne."_

"_Thank you kindly, Erik, but you hardly know me. Have you even heard me before?"_

"_There's a lake too?"_

"_My fiancé is expecting to meet me somewhere..."_

"_If you must know, Erik, it was to please my fiancé."_

Erik hit his fist against the keys. He had it.

He took furious long strides into the Louis-Philippe room, needing to see her again. He was not furious with her, no, he was furious with all of those who caused her pain...

Her husband-to-be obviously had no clue about this. It was clear by what she had said. She only wanted to make the boy happy after all. They must have had an argument or something that caused them to postpone their wedding, but without the Vicomte, Christine still had no money. Naturally, she could not tell him of her desperate need for money, yet she could not return to the Opera House for fear of Erik. However, there was only one other career that she could go into easily. That was why she had changed her name to "Christianne." It was not a complete name change, yet the men who were her customers could not know her real identity. Most importantly to her, her fiancé could never know. The poor innocent girl could not stand any of it any longer and had returned safely to the shadow of Erik's wings.

That explained why she had not acknowledged Erik earlier. If word were to get back to her fiancé about asking for help from the Opera Ghost, the Vicomte would soon find out reason behind it and may never marry and support her. Of course, a part of Erik wanted this to happen so she could run safely into his arms, like she had done earlier near the lake.

If Erik could hold her like that again, he would be happier than he ever had been.

Or perhaps she did not intend to marry the Vicomte any more.

"_Well... I guess that you could say that music has been our entire relationship."_

Erik could see right through these words! She was not speaking of her relationship with her supposed lover; she was speaking of her relationship with him, her Angel of Music! He had known that the boy knew nothing about music, that was what she was trying to convey! Then he remembered something else she had said...

"_I suppose not... It would break his heart if he knew that I wanted to quit after only my first day..."_

Was she really speaking of quitting the theatre or did she mean the relationship? How long had they actually been engaged? They may have retreated for a while, but as he had thought earlier, things may have not worked out for them and she may have lived on her own for a while. Perhaps this was the first day of their engagement.

Erik bent over to caress her cheek with his bone cold hand. She would never have to suffer like that again...

Christianne felt the cold hand on her cheek and began to stir. She opened her eyes to see Erik leaning over her.

Erik smiled, but realized that his mask covered his mouth.

"Wha- What happened?" she asked looking around her. "Where am I?"

"It is very humid out there by the lake. It was enough to cause you to faint. This is my home." Erik saw the egg in her hair again. "We should probably get you washed up, my dear."

She smiled gratefully. They had only just met, and yet Erik was so kind and eager to help her...

Erik held out his hand to help her up.

She took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet.

Erik said, "The bathroom is this way." He led her to a door in the Louis-Philippe room and opened it for her.

"I will leave you alone while you wash up."

"Thanks again, Erik," she said, smiling at him.

"It is my pleasure," Erik said, willing to do anything for her now that he knew why she had come. He would give it time, of course – she needed to begin to trust him again – but he would help her.

Christianne closed the bathroom door and began to disrobe. It was so kind of Erik to bring her here to wash up so she did not have to go around with egg all over her for the rest of the day.

She went to the tub and drew a bath. The faucet was a bit rusty and a bit difficult to turn, but it still worked.

She stepped into the water and sat down, finding that there were some soaps and shampoo nearby. She had never seen shampoo in a glass bottle before though...

When she had finished bathing, feeling greatly refreshed now that she was not all covered in egg, she found a towel and wrapped it tightly around her body, then picked up her soiled clothing and went to go find Erik.

While she was bathing, Erik had made his way over to his room again where the organ sat. However, he did not play the organ, but instead, found his violin and began to play a piece from _La flûte enchantée_. He was so absorbed in the music once he began to play that he did not notice anything else in the room.

If he had glanced at the coffin, he would have noticed that the dirty clothing he had thrown upon the coffin had vanished. If he had seen that, perhaps the later events could have been prevented.

Or perhaps it was better that he did not notice it.

Christianne heard the sound of the violin playing a familiar air. It sounded like the revenge aria from _La flûte enchantée_.

She followed the sound until she came upon a room all hung with black and with a coffin sitting in the center.

_What a peculiar room_ she thought to herself. _I didn't know that Erik was in to Goth..._

She moved closer to listen to him better. He was quite good, after all.

Erik did not hear her enter the room, since he was still lost in the music.

She closed her eyes and listened. She had been learning this aria before she had left the Conservatoire...

Suddenly, she felt the urge to join in to his song and came in on the first flutey cadenza.

_Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah..._

Erik heard her voice. He could hear her voice there in the room, joining with his music, making it a masterpiece. He closed his eyes as he continued.

_I cast thee off forever! The bonds of love I sever! I spurn thee and renounce thee if thou darest to brave my wrath!_

Erik could not help the smile that tugged at his lips as he heard her voice again.

_If my wrath thou darest to brave, through thee Sarastro is to perish! Hear, gods of vengeance! Hear a mother's oath!_

The aria was over and Christianne was beaming with delight. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed singing... All of those cruel people at the opera had sort of ruined it for her...

Erik opened his eyes which were shining with joy. He looked to see her there with him and sighed.

_His is how it should be; this is how it should always be._

Christianne gave a sigh of contentment.

"Oh Erik... That was wonderful! I had almost forgotten how much I loved to sing..."

Erik set the violin aside and gazed at her sadly. His poor angel... it had been so long since she had been exposed to the beauty of music. Instead she was forced to cope with... He clenched a fist behind his back as the mere thought of anyone taking advantage of her sickened him.

"You were lovely, mademoiselle. It had been a pleasure to hear you sing. L'Opéra Garnier is honored to have you in its presence."

She blushed.

"The pleasure is all mine. I've never heard anyone play so beautifully before..."

Erik's eyes widened when he finally realized what she was wearing. He struggled to not make the sound of a strangled animal, but he still managed to nod at her compliment.

"Thank you, mademoiselle." He could not bear to say the name that she insisted he call her; it only caused him anger and he did not want her to see him angry. "We should probably find you something to wear."

"You're probably right," she laughed, glancing down at her towel.

Erik held out his hand to her, which seemed to have become their custom now.

She politely took his hand while holding her towel with the other.

Erik led her back to the Louis-Philippe room to show her the outfits he had set on the bed.

Christianne had to stifle a bit of laughter. The dresses that lay on the bed were quite long and much too formal for a simple day dress...

"I cannot possibly work dressed like that..."

Erik looked at her a bit strangely.

"Of course you can. What do you mean?"

"i have to do a lot more than just stand there and look pretty, you know. I might have to dance a bit, or bend over..."

Erik was a bit appalled by this. She was not considering going back to that lifestyle; she could not! Even though she had issues with her fiancé, Erik would not allow her to return to such a life! Because of this, he was adamant about her wearing one of the dresses.

"You did not seem to worry about this when you wore that other outfit," Erik states, hiding a smirk behind his mask.

"Well, because it was cool, allowed for easy movement, comfortable... I very much happened to like that outfit, thank you. This just... well... it seems a bit ridiculous," she said, laughing a bit.

Erik was a bit taken back. She had always worn things like this! Then he had to remind himself of what she had gone through. He sighed, "If it seems ridiculous, then what would you prefer to wear?"

"Do you have anything a bit shorter, perhaps in a lighter fabric?"

"A lighter fabric? Oh yes, it is dreadfully humid down here..." He finally decided to let her have her way, even though he had a terrible feeling about her real reasoning for this. "Would you mind wearing a white chemise?" Before he let her answer, he added, "A belt might do nicely with it as well..."

"Definitely better than this stuffy old thing," she said, still laughing.

Erik chuckled and picked up the chemise and found a belt along with the other things he had laid out on the bed. He handed these two items to her and said, "I will wait for you in the dining-room."

"All right," she said, taking the clothes and giving a smile.

When he had left the room, she dressed and then headed out to meet him in the dining room, but she eventually found him waiting for her at the dining room table.

"you look lovely," Erik greeted. He had hoped that this outfit would turn out well and it had turned out better than he had thought.

"Thanks," she said, blushing a bit.

He did not want her to leave, but he knew that she had wanted to leave as soon as she had gotten cleaned up. After all, that was what he had used to bring her down there in the first place and he had to keep his word.

"Before I take you back, there is something I need to give you."

"All right," she said, having a seat at the table. "What is it?"

Erik held out a small gold ring.

"As long as you keep it, you will be protected against all danger and Erik will remain your friend." He did not even realize that he was repeating the exact words that he had said to her last time he had given it to her. He thought that he was reminding her of what the ring meant...

He continued, "But woe to you if you ever part with it, for Erik will have his revenge!"

She took the ring from him, giving him an odd look.

"I'll keep it if it will make you happy, but gifts really aren't necessary, Erik. After all, we don't know each other very well at all..."

"I assure you,, you may need it."

She smiled and took the ring, putting it on the chain of the necklace that Thomas had given to her.

Erik smiled beneath his mask as she did so. Then, giving a resented sigh, he told her, "You must go back now."

"You're probably right," she said. "My fiancé will be worried if I'm any later... Thanks for everything, Erik."

"It is my pleasure, mademoiselle," Erik said, gently reaching for her hand. "Now we should be going."

She allowed him to take her hand.

He led her out of the house and toward the lake.

"This is the best way to take you back above ground."

"Are you sure?" she said in a trembling voice.

"Christianne," Erik spoke in a gentler voice than he had before. As much as he hated this new name, he knew he had to call her by it eventually. "I promise you that there is nothing in that lake that will harm you. The boat will not overturn, I have made certain of that. You must know that if anything were to happen, Erik would risk his life to save yours. Please, this is the only way."

The way that he spoke allowed her to regain some of her former confidence. She gave a sigh. If Erik was right, then she had to cross the lake to get to Thomas."

"All right..." she stammered nervously. "I'll go with you... You promise it won't turn over?"

"I promise."

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"Just go quickly so that we can get this over with..."

"Of course," Erik led her into the boat as gently as he could. He rowed the boat to the other side as swiftly as possible.

As soon as they touched the other shore, Christianne leaped from the boat and flung herself down on the land.

Erik tied the boat to the small dock and walked over to her, helping her up.

She clung to him for a moment, still shaking in fear from the journey across the lake.

Erik held her tightly, letting his fingers brush over her hair for a moment.

She paid this no mind, tears of terror still streaming from her eyes.

"It's over, Christianne. We're on land. Everything will be all right. We're on land."

Christianne took a deep breath and nodded, still shaking a bit. She loosened herself from his grasp.

Erik asked, "Are you ready to go on?"

"I think so," she said. Nothing on the way back could possibly be as bad as the lake. She hoped to never have to cross the lake again.

Erik held out his hand for her.

She took it, attempting a smile, and allowed him to lead her on.

He led her through the dark cellars until they came once again to the mirror. He opened it to let her slip through.

"Won't you come with me to lunch? I'd like to introduce you to my fiancé..."

Erik shook his head.

"that is a very generous offer, mademoiselle, and while that offer is very tempting, I do not want to spoil your lunch with him."

"Oh, you won't spoil anything. He'll be happy to see that I've managed to make friends."

"perhaps another time. There are a few matters that I must attend to. I am certain that we will see each other again."

"Promise?"

Smiling, Erik kissed her hand and answered, "I promise."

Christianne watched as Erik slipped back through the mirror and knew that it would not be long before she saw the masked violinist again.

Erik still remained in the passageway behind the mirror as he turned back to faintly see his angel. He grinned.

Now that Christine had returned to him, he would save her from the cruel world that had seemingly sucked her in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Exciting news! The forum "Bienvenue au palais Garnier" where the role play for this is taking place has moved up from the #3 slot to being the #2 Phantom of the Opera forum on . Thank you very much to all of those who posted and made such a thing possible.**

**In this chapter, I wrote for the character of Christianne Vidal and EriksNewLove wrote for the role of Madame Boibigny.**

**As of this moment, the roles of hannah Anderson and Mademoiselle Clichy are still up for grabs. Original Characters always welcome. remember if you wish to join, to fill out the brief application form on the forum and either I or another administrator will respond to you as soon as possible either giving the final stamp of approval for you joining, or asking to you edit your application a little to be reconsidered.**

**An author's note to avoid any confusion, the abreviation for "Madame" is "Mme," which is used throughout this chapter and through the rest of the story. The abreviations for Monsieur and mademoiselle are "M" and "Mlle" respectively.**

**No anonymous comments to respond to this time. As always, when you leave a comment, I will be sure to respond as soon as I can. If you leave it under your pen name, I will PM you my response, but if it is anonymous, I will respond at the beginning of the next chapter.**

**Thanks again for reading and I hope that you continue to enjoy reading as much as all of the co-authors and I enjoy creating this. We all enjoy reading your wonderful reviews and always appreciate whenever readers care enough to take the time to write them. Hearing your reader input always makes us happy to see that you cared enough to take the time out not only to read, but also to write back.**

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><p>Christianne came back out of the dressing room, now clothed in a knee-length chemise with a belt. It was the most reasonable thing she could find to wear in Erik's house – much better at least than all of those stuffy dresses that he had wanted her to wear, which were much too formal and much too hot for the season...<p>

As she walked through the foyer, a touring group was just finishing passing through.

Mme. Boibigny, the tour guide, was standing in the foyer with the group.

"All right, this is the end of the Garnier tour. I hope that you all enjoyed yourselves I thank you all for coming and hope you visit again sometime soon. The exit is through the gift shop over there. Feel free to take a bit of time to look on your own at the different galleries before leaving," she said as the tour group walked off. She sighed, sat down on the grand staircase, and rested her face in her hands.

Madame Boibigny was in her middle thirties. The ballet girls who knew her said that she was one of the dancers in her youth. She had loved it so much she couldn't bear to leave and stayed as a tour guide.

"Why can't it just stop, all these hauntings?" she said to herself, exasperated. "Why hasn't he gone? Christine died more than a hundred years ago. She's dead; the Opera ghost should have died with her..."

She had no idea that someone was watching her as she got up to leave for her next tour...

"Excuse me, Madame," Christianne said softly. "I... I forgot how to get back to the Baillieu rehearsal room. Could you possibly show me the way?"

Mme Boibigny didn't hear the girl at first, but after a few seconds she could feel someone walking behind her.

"Huh?" she finally said. "Oh! The Baillieu rehearsal room? Go up to the fifth story. The entrance is on the south side of the building. It's the large center room."

She returned to her muttering and walked on, feet in fourth position and hands in low fifth – proof that she had been a dancer. Once a ballerina, always a ballerina.

Christianne noted the curious way that she walked.

"I'm sorry, but would you happen to be a dancer here? Not that it's any of my business; I'm just curious."

Mme Boibigny looked at her, a slightly sad expression on her face.

"I was. Long ago, I was the prima ballerina. But no, not any more. I'm Mme Boibigny, the tour guide." she said, smiling at her.

"My name is Christianne," she said, holding her hand out for Mme Boibigny to shake. "I just started here..."

Mme Boibigny shook the girl's hand.

"I'm guessing you have heard about the Opera Ghost? The one of books and performances?"

Christianne gave the woman a quizzical look.

"You have not heard," she asked, "of the Phantom of the Opera?"

"No," she said simply. "The other tour guide never mentioned it to me..."

Mme Boibigny looked at the girl oddly.

"Other tour guide? What are you talking about? I'm the only tour guide here..."

"His name is Erik. He seemed to know absolutely everything about the Opéra..."

Madame Boibigny gasped. Her great great grandmother had worked at the Opéra during the late eighteen-hundreds. The story had been passed down about the Opera Ghost who haunted the opera. His name had been Erik. She put on a fake smile.

"You were probably just imagining things. I do not believe there is anybody who works of performs here named 'Erik' at the moment."

"But I am not imagining things! He took me to his house to get cleaned up. He let be borrow some clothes," she said, indicating her attire. "Do all tour guides live beneath the Opéra?"

Mme Boibigny stared at the girl, horrified.

"What did you say?" she asked weakly. "_Do all tour guides live beneath the Opéra?..._ No. Only... Only the Phantom of the Opera has ever lived beneath the Opera House."

"The Phantom of the Opera? That's ridiculous! There's no such thing as ghosts!"

"Does he wear a mask? If so, he's the phantom; I know it! My great grandmother, Madame Antoinette Giry used to be his box keeper. Although she never did see him. Her daughter 'Meg' however often heard the other dancers speak of what he looked like. There was a star once at the Garnier by the name of Christine Daaé, who it is rumored was kidnapped by the ghost! Be careful – he could get you next!"

"Well, he wore a mask, but Erik wouldn't hurt a fly... Maybe your great great grandmother was just telling you stories..."

She shook her head.

"She was a serious woman, very slow with her imagination. She always said that Erik was very gentle until you took his mask off."

"Well if she never saw him, then how would she know?"

The tour guide was silent.

"Fine then. You know what? I'll prove it to you. I'll get Erik to take off his mask for me the next time I see him and prove to you that there are no such things as ghosts,"

Madame Boibigny looked frantic.

"I'm warning you. Anyone who knows about him knows that's a _very_ bad idea. He may never let you leave. The only reason Christine escaped was because she gave him her love... But if I am unable to stop you, don't say I didn't want you."

"Madame, I assure you that Erik is no ghost; he is quite real."

"I most certainly hope so... Hmm... Perhaps if you read the story, you would know what I mean – here." She handed Christianne a battered copy. "It's the book _The Phantom of the Opera. _I've had this book for twenty-six years. Good luck."

Christianne took the old worn-out book and then glanced down at the gold ring that Erik had given to her, which she still wore strung to the chain of her necklace from Thomas.

"So you really believe he's a ghost?..."

"I know it. Read the book. It tells everything."

"But if he _were_ a ghost, then how on earth was I able to touch him just as I would be able to touch any other human being?"

"I do not know. But I do know that who you are speaking of _must_ be the phantom. Be careful, child! And don't get on his bad side, or it could easily result in your own death."

"If he _is_ a ghost, then how could he kill me? And better yet, why would he speak to me in the first place?"

Mme Boibigny looked Christianne over.

"Come with me," she said. And she led her down many halls to the portrait gallery, to one specific portrait.

"Look."

Christianne did so and gasped at what she saw. It was almost as if she were staring at her own reflection in a mirror.

"Who is that woman?" she asked.

"_That_ is Christine Daaé: the opera singer with whom the phantom fell in love."

Christianne was silent. She noticed the plain gold ring on the finger of the woman in the portrait and held the identical gold ring on her chain, staring at it.

"The ring!" Madame Boibigny gasped. "The ring that Erik gave to Christine one hundred and thirty-five years ago!..."

Christianne turned to Mme Boibigny. The look on her face was not quite of terror, nor of shock, nor of confusion... but a mixture of all of these. Could this 'ghost' business really have some sort of truth behind it?

"Go now," said the tour guide, nodding. "I've said way too much... Go!"

"But if Erik gave this ring to her, then why..."

"You look just like her; He probably thinks that you're her. Has he ever called you 'Christine' instead of 'Christianne'?"

"No," she said simply. Erik had called her Christianne ever since they had met only a couple of hours before.

"Still, I think that you need to confront him and see for yourself. Or read the book. Now, I must go,"

And with that, she walked away.

"But..."

Christianne sighed. Everything at the Opéra was so strange. Perhaps she should just go find Thomas. After all, she was already late for their lunch date...

She glanced down at the book. Surely Erik was no ghost... Just some kindly gentleman living beneath the Opéra... He had been so kind and generous to her... Her hands trembled as she held the book and looked up again at the painting. The woman _did_ look _exactly_ like her...No matter. She had introduced herself to him and it was clearly the first time they had met...

_Why am I still debating this? _She thought to herself. It was apparent that Erik was no ghost. This must all be another one of Hannah's pranks, and now she had gotten the tour guide in on it too!

Christianne groaned at the thought of a fresh humiliation and headed off to meet Thomas.


End file.
